


En Avant

by LitaMaxwell



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Dancer Storyline Rewrite, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-18 22:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22301038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LitaMaxwell/pseuds/LitaMaxwell
Summary: A troupe from a faraway land travels to Eorzea to spread their artform. They also happen to run into some idiot along the way. These are their adventures.*A Rewrite of the Dancer Storyline*
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	En Avant

**Author's Note:**

> I love Dancer as a Job!  
> However, I hated the storyline and felt like it wasn't treated well.  
> So this is my attempt to rewrite to story that it makes some sort of sense without the uh...dumb.

The bright skies of the maritime city Limsa Lominsa greets the ship traveling from across the wide sea, many of the passengers scrambling out to enjoy the fresh salty breeze after being cooped up below deck for the past few moons. Most coming to the city were merchants, peddling their wares from their homelands and to sell the exotic to those who would call the land of Eorzea home. Some were folk traveling from the lands of Hingashi, wanting something new other than the life they had left behind, a fortune perhaps in this new land. But there are those who seek something else, something that cannot be held in the palms of hands or belong in the clinking of coinpurses. To an extent, it is possible but not truly.

Of the group that emerges from the depths of the cabins and into the sunlight, a miqo’te woman with sun kissed skin and reddish hair stretches into the open area, her arms extending out, reaching for the white fluffy clouds above her.

“Gods, it’s wonderful to feel this breeze! I almost became maddened with having to stay below deck!” she exclaims to no one in particular. A huff from behind her following a chuckle as a man dressed in metallic golds and blues, wrapped loosely around his torso as he adjusts a prized possession in his hands, a small lute, lightly plucking the strings.

“I had feared you would be climbing the walls a few times. Rain does not bode well for practice.”

“I know, a few of the older folks didn’t like it when we made too much noise. But it can’t be helped, we had to find ways to rehearse in such a small space!” the miqo’te groans, planting her hands on her hips, rolling her torso back and forth in a circle.

Meanwhile, the lute player pulls gently at the strings of his instrument as he gazes at the shoreline of the city, the ship pulling further into the harbor. “I’m still rather curious why we had to travel halfway across the sea. Could we not make due with staying in Radz-at-Han?” He asks, his tone both curious and uncertain. “Most of us have not left the island until now and it seemed rather sudden for our leader to announce our trip.”

“Who knows? Perhaps she knows something we don’t yet. I have faith in her.”

“Nay, is it not because of faith I question this, Ranaa, but would these people want to see something already given to them?”

The miqo’te, Ranaa, grins in reply. “We’ll just need to give them a show to remember then! Let our music and feet speak instead of words!” Her hands make a gesture in rallying her comrade but he steps back due to how grand her moves seem to be, enough to bump into another figure coming up towards them.

“Please watch yourself, Kuihlud. You might be a musician but I expect you to light on your feet as well.” The woman speaks and the air she holds speaks of that of a leader. And yet behind her spectacles, she holds an expression of amusement. “Besides, I would hate to tell F'lhaminn that one of our prized musicians would be unable to perform before we even start our tour in Eorzea.” she speaks, adjusting her eyewear at the other two’s direction.

“That does make me wonder Mistress Nashmeira,” the musician ponders his question out loud. “Why have we traveled a long way to these distant shores?”

“Quite simple really.” The woman gives both her performers a toothy grin. “We are here to bring our artform from our homeland to this part of the world! Would it not do us any good if only the island we have called our home partook in our style?”

Ranaa nods enthusiastically but Kuihlud simply stares back at her, unsure whether this is true or not and it seems their leader manages to catch on.

“Yes it is that simple.” She nods. “What else were you expecting? A forbidden dance that the souls of the damned call on? Even I have to question the authenticity of the tale.” Honestly, she has to wonder who was drunk enough to come up with some hogwash like that. How would that even work? Nashmeira clears her throat as the ship steadies itself into the harbor. “Right then, best we prepare to speak through the proper channels as we embark. We do not know the customs of this city very well and it would look good in the eyes of the leaders here.”

“We’ll give them the best performance!” Ranaa almost jumps into the air but Kuihlud grips her shoulders and keeps her grounded. Literally.

“Save it for when we need to!”

She groans and pouts as he guides her back into the ship’s cabins to get their modest luggage. Limsa Lominsa is only one of hopefully many stops on this tour.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A large crowd gathers thanks to some impressive word of mouth as they stand close by the large dock near the Fisherman’s Guild. They did not need anything other than a large circular carpet and their instruments to show what they could do for these people and it is when the crowd begins to quiet down, Kuihlud walks on and bows.

 _“So close, and yet so far…”_ his smile is dazzling and bright in the sun when he speaks. _“For all who cannot make the voyage to our home, we bring our art to yours!”_ Holding his arms out in welcome, he continues on. _“Hailing from Radz-at-Han across the sea, I present the incomparable, transcendent...Troupe Falsiam!”_ The performer’s voice grows in crescendo as each descriptive word is enunciated in perfect step, to point out who they were and what they will show the crowd. _“Today, we have prepared a sumptuous feast for your eyes and ears. Let the soaring melodies and stirring, striking steps of our dancers reach your heart and spirit you away to a distant world!”_

The crowd claps and cheers as Ranaa walks forward, dressed in attire that seemed out of place and left little to the imagination when it came to certain gazes. Kuihlud then retreats to the side with the other musicians and picks up his lute, nodding to the rest.

With a strum of the strings...once...twice…

Ranaa then takes a hold of her chakrams and twirls in step with the music, listening to the crowd oo and aah at the quickness of her feet, how her torso bends in sync as she kicks in the air. And in the crowd is Nashmeira, keeping an eye out on the proceedings. She watches her protege stay in step, silently letting her eyes count the steps and wordlessly speak the movements. Ranaa has been known to charm the crowd and how could she not? She did train hard for this position and Nashmeira chose her for this particular reason. From between the beats of the strings and drums, she watches the crowd for their reactions. Many gasp in awe of the performer gracing the impromptu stage of the pier and she can swear she spotted a lalafellin fellow cheering much more vigorously while what appears to be his female companion glare in return. A pleasant reaction so far and yet there’s one who is not following the crowd. Nashmeira glances at the tall man with fiery colors in his hair and the deep green eyes focusing in on Ranaa, at first pondering if he feels a sudden attraction.

But as she watches him, she notices that he is not focusing on the more pleasing parts of the dancer’s body but something else.

“Might you be enjoying the performance?” she then asks him, making him feel startled and turned his attention to her. “You seem rather transfixed.”

“Er, yeah.” His voice sounds rough around the edges as he runs his fingers through his hair. “I’ve never seen such dancing before but...this might sound rather funny but…” He bites the inside of one his cheeks before continuing. “I can feel the passion put in it.”

Nashmeira folds her arms and gives the man a small smile in return. “Really? How can you tell?”

The man shakes his head. “It’s hard to put in words, like a gut feeling. That and I can understand the feeling of being light on your feet but hold your ground.” he replies as Nashmeira tries to see any particular tells about his posture. She can’t tell if he’s lying or not but as Ranaa leaps into the air, the man leans back.

“Um, sir? What exactly are you doing?” the troupe leader asks.

“I wanted to see if I can bend like her. I’m interested in this kind of dancing.” it is blunt and to the point, enough that Nashmeira couldn’t think of a proper response. “Hey, since you seem to know that lady, maybe you know anyone who teaches that type of fighting?”

“Fighting? I do not know what you mean.” Nashmeira keeps her tone light while her mind races at how he managed to assume that their troupe could even battle.

“You mean those round tools are sharp for show? They remind me of the daggers I use.” the man replies. “Just because someone knows how to dance doesn’t mean they also cannot use it in battle. Pretty sure someone can throw one and it’ll stick in the nearest piece of wood.” He’s not even paying attention to Nashmeira, which could be a disadvantage.

The woman is puzzled. How would he be able to notice their chakrams can work as well as weapons? Just who on earth is this man? The principal dancer stares right into Ranaa’s eyes, who catches her gaze with a simple short nod. Without missing a single step, the miqo’te lets her legs fly up and her fingers loosen their grip on her disks, letting them sail through the air and into the crowd, hearing gasps of amazement as a couple jump out of the way. Now they were aiming for a particular target as both chakrams sail right towards the red haired man…

Only to have his hands reach out and catch them with a smug grin. Those next to him let out applause as he twists on his left leg and spins in place, throwing the disks back at Ranaa, a cocky gleam in his green eyes as she manages to catch them with a bow. The crowd roars in cheers and applause, blissfully unaware that the incident was not in the show proper. The man claps along as the rest of the performers bow and Ranaa clasps back her disks onto her costume.

“Our thanks for coming to see Troupe Falsiam put on their very first performance! We hope you enjoyed yourselves!” she grins from ear to ear, taking a step back and bowing last. This has been an interesting performance indeed...and Nashmeira can feel her mind already coming with a course of action. The crowds begin to disperse as Ranaa follows the musicians to talk but the man stays put only for a second as he taps two fingers to his head and outward, grinning from ear to ear.

“Nice to meet you, lady. Hope your stay in Eorzea will be fun~!” he speaks in a singsong tune and turns his back away from her, preparing to leave. The principal has to act quick otherwise, this chance will be lost.

“Wait!” she calls out. “What’s your name?”

He stops and puts a hand on his hip, tilting his head back enough to address her. “Uh, why do you wanna know that? Didn’t I just make you and that dancer there look like complete arses?”

Nashmeira’s lips turn into a thin line but then, she grins. “That might be true but mayhap...we can be of service to you.”

“Look lady, I’m happily married. Pretty sure Limsa has a lot of pleasure barges to help you out there.”

“Oh gods-!” she blushes and shakes her head. “I did not mean like that! I was speaking of your question about learning to dance!”

“Ohhhh…” A blank look appears on his face. “Ok, I’m listening.”

“Are you always like this?” Nashmeira asks, exasperated at this man already and she barely knew him for five minutes.

“Depending on who but usually my husband gets the more raunchy jokes.”

“I...see.” The woman adjusts her glasses, sighing. Gods, help her but this is a fleeting chance. “We are new to these lands and woefully unfamiliar with the customs and routes. In exchange for your guidance, we will teach you the other side of our dancing technique, our own style of fighting. I can provide the tools if you need and I do have a crystal with me if you accept.”

He turns and steps forward once, raising an eyebrow. “You’re prepared...too prepared. No catches or anything? No kidnappings or forces of evil trying to suck the land dry?”

“Goodness, you have an active imagination!”

“Tis normal in Eorzea.” He shrugs. “So, I simply help you run around the realm and you perform your shows and in exchange, I learn how to dance and the ability to kick someone’s arse a new way? Sounds like fun.” the redhead grins and holds his hand out to her. “By the way, the name’s Voyce.” he finally introduces himself as Nashmeira reaches out and returns the shake.

“A pleasure then, Voyce. I am Nashmeira,” the dancer replies. “Principal dancer of Troupe Falsiam and leader. I am looking forward to working with you.”

And yet a small part of her is dreading the upcoming journey. They still have to get a sponsor for the trip before leaving La Noscea and while she does have an appointment, she is unsure how this bargain with Voyce will go. Hopefully things will go as smoothly as she believes.

**Author's Note:**

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